


#22

by mickeym



Series: Great Ficlet Meme of 2004 [22]
Category: Popslash
Genre: Ficlet, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-26
Updated: 2004-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:32:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym





	#22

for joeyloveshockey

He's too warm, but not warm enough - anticipation, dread, desire and a bit of fear slide through him like slivers of ice. It's an interesting contrast to the heat still radiating off his ass; JC wields a paddle like no one's business. Chris is pretty sure he won't sit comfortably for at least a day or two.

"Scared?" JC's voice slips inside gently, wiggles into his brain and joins the buzz already there. His fingers are warm, slipping over Chris' ribs. Counting them? Visualizing? Chris shivers.

"No. Yes. I dunno?" He takes a deep breath. "Not-just." A quick grin. "I really don't know."

"I can tell, yeah." JC touches all over Chris' chest, fingers stroking and teasing, arousing him. Little pinches, quick scrapes of his nails, soft kneading with the tips. He touches until Chris is wriggling, turned on and ready, his ass and cock throbbing, his head whirling with need and hunger and eagerness.

He almost misses the first bite of the knife, a quick slash across his chest, a sudden streak of fire digging into his skin. His moan is pulled out of him without his permission; the sound is painful, breaking past his lips, a sort of scalding sensation on his throat.

"Hurts so good, baby." Another quick slash, and Chris wishes he could see the lines, moist red spreading across his torso, moving downward slowly. He can feel them, though, stinging that grows in intensity as JC moves his knife here and there, short, shallow dips into Chris' skin. "You need a ring here," JC whispers the words, fingers pulling and tugging at Chris' nipples once before the knife bites down, circling the areola. He groans again, more a harsh grunt, and arches toward the sensation. JC sits back on his haunches and when looks at him, his eyes are dark, dilated. Shining with lust. "More?"

"No," he manages. "Please. Need you."

It's so good, JC's weight on him, pressing against the stinging, hot cuts; forcing his ass harder against the roughness of the blanket. Friction of skin-on-skin makes colors dance behind his eyes, the redhot burn searing through him, followed by the cooling slide of sweat and blood between. Chris shudders when JC smacks his ass once more, then growls when JC penetrates him, cock thick and hard and opening him wide.

He'll ache everywhere tomorrow, but the incredible rush from this now makes it worthwhile. He's floating, flying free and untethered, the only thing grounding him is JC pounding into him, one word echoing into his brain as their bodies strain against one another.

"Mine."

~fin~  
  



End file.
